This isn't no intervention

I am so pleasantly surprised by the photos of Rihanna's performance at the latest instalment of the bonkers-fest that is the Victoria's Secret "Fashion" Show. (Oh I know, quotation marks humour. Move over Tina Fey.)

The dress is Vivienne Westwood. I feel like the sunglasses might be vintage Chanel.

I'm particularly fascinated by the last photo - the one in which she struts with Very Pretty Woman, Doutzen Kroes. Rihanna does more than hold her own and yet she doesn't dominate, precisely. In fact, I feel like there is a weird zen-voodoo-ying-yang sexiness balance in this photo.

The question of how to present female musicians at the VSFS is interestingly tricky terrain. For example, things didn't feel quite right when Fergie performed at the show in 2009:

The different between Fergie and Rihanna's ensembles is that the latter has some very decent fashion content. Fergie's outfit is an attempt to meet the VS Angels on their own terms (bonkers trash) and inevitably the comparison does not work to her advantage.

In 2011 Nicki Minaj went another way completely, taking a deranged whore clown of nightmares as her sartorial inspiration:

I actually adore this photo of Minaj and the oh so earnestly sexy Erin Heatherton, and get quite the Giulietta Masina in La Strada vibe from Nicki:

That said, and even bearing in mind that Miss Minaj has made outré costume an important part of her public persona, I can't help but feel that you can look at Fergie's example and find that Minaj has gone too far the other way. There is also something almost minstrel-ish about the singer's performance which feels kind of icky when you consider how fews black girls actually model in the show - I counted 3 out of the group of 37 models this year.

Katy Perry's live show aesthetic is so perfectly in tune with that of the VSFS that she must have seemed like an obvious choice when she performed in 2010:

I would actually say that, in the photos I have seen of the show at least, she often dominates the frame. That's not necessarily a good thing so far as Victoria's Secret is concerned.

And so it is Rihanna, with her Dietrich-ian sexiness, who manages to create the perfect dynamic. There's a quite a bit of Eartha Kitt-y cat cool in there too:

Rihnna exudes a very slightly masculine air while not a appearing, nor indeed wearing anything in the least butch. It's the opposite of how Missy Elliot appeared when she performed with Madonna, Britney and Christina at the Fauxmo Spectacular,  2003 VMAs:

Sidenote: Why didn't they make Missy the priest?!? I will never stop asking that question.

Ostentation 4 life

I'm fiending Lele Sadoughi's jewellery line so badly that I can't even take pleasure in looking at it.

OH GOD THE PAIN.

I make me sick.

Obviously, Doctor

The Virgin Suicides was already one of my top three all-time favourite movies when I first read the Jeffrey Eugenides book on which it was based. I actually loved the book too, but reading it made me admire Sofia Coppola's film all the more. It would have been so easy to turn that story into an intensely dark film but Coppola took it to another place entirely.

Here is The Preatures' (formerly The Preachers) cover of Danimals' song, "Christmas Worm's Quest for Fresh Apples"


Again, hearing the original work (which you can listen to here) makes me appreciate the reinterpretation all the more.

p.s. Here is a Lone Maniac photo shoot starring The Preatures' Isabella Manfredi. Let's talk about this:

 Photo by Tess Huton

First Charlotte Free (who, quelle horreur, is a model, hairy and eloquent), and now Isabella?

Photo by Terry Richardson

About time.

To be clear, I'm not pro-hairy pits from an aesthetic standpoint (duh, I read Cosmo as a teenager, I'm keenly aware of which parts of my body I'm meant to be ashamed of) but my brain knows it's pissweak that this crazy rigid standard applies to women and not men.

And remember folks, it's always beautiful women who ease in the scary new trends. Just ask Miranda Kerr and her high-cut bathers.

Numéro #115, August 2010, photo by Sebastian Kim

Bard Boys

So I'm not huge on theatre and a plays and stuff, but the dream sequence from Shakespeare's Richard III is pretty boss. 

Richard III (1995), Directed by by Laurence Olivier

I would degrade myself in an exploitative women's magazine internship and spend the next twelve years fetching coffees, just for the chance to eventually be appointed assistant beauty editor and being able to publish an article on haircare called "Despair and Dye".

Think evil of this.

Given the dearth of olden-day stuff in Sydney CBD, I'm a bit hesitant to rag on what little there is. That said, I think it would be uncontroversial to describe this statue of Queen Victoria as ugly-fugly:

For anyone interested in its history, I highly recommend taking gander at Public Art Around the World's page on it. It was there I learnt that the monument is a relative newcomer to our shores - we got the thing off Ireland in 1984. Here are some photos from before and during the move:

Though one can imagine that the Irish would be even less inclined than most to have any affection for the monument and its subject, they graciously turned down several offers from scrap merchants before gifting the bronze statue to the Antipodes. Fun fact: James Joyce nicknamed it the "Auld Bitch". Bless.

You might wonder from whence my interest in the Auld Bitch sprang. I'd like to say that I simply have an insatiable appetite for all things historical, that the world is my archive and so on. The truth, sadly, is that I'm just a big ol' perv. Suffice it to say, my first inquiry into the subject was the Google search "Queen Victoria statue Sydney george st nipple shield".

Astonishingly this did not yield many results. But seriously folks, isn't her pin (the Star of the Order of the Garter, I think) a little... on the nose? Here is another depiction of Victoria wearing the Star, this time with less fetish-chic:

Queen Victoria, 1843 (oil on canvas) William Fowler

Could it be that John Hughes, the sculpture's creator, was giving the Famine Queen, those dreadful Brits and, yes, The Man, a little thumb to nose action, an allegorical purple nurple, if you will? Probably not? Oh well, as long as we're here - 

Who wore it better, Queen Victoria or Rihanna?

Steven Klein, Vogue Italia Extreme Couture Supplement, September, 2009

bodies

Editor's note: This is not a post about feet, even though the long first bit is about feet. I promise it gets super deep and meaningful, like, 3/4 of the way through.

The other day my mum and I were driving in Newtown and saw a group of girls in high heels walking along the footpath. I laughed at their respective gaites, familiar as I was with that horsey trot that accompanies the wearing of 3 inch+ heels. My mum on the other hand was actually concerned - "Why are they doing that?", she exclaimed in horror. Why? Christian Louboutin, mum. What about, "How?". Well, I'm no scientist, but I do talk a lot of shit so, if you'll allow me:

It seems to me that those girls were missing out on the last step in this cycle, where the leg straightens out, the foot flexing slightly in preparation for the heel making contact with ground. Instead, they go from the second last position to simply clomping straight down, knee still bent. 

Fashion is bonkers, yo.

In 2010 Tina Fey attended the Golden Globe Awards wearing this gown from Zac Posen's Resort collection of the same year.

The dress has stayed in my mind, mostly because it was panned by a lot of commentators, including E! host Giuliana Rancic. A week after the Golden Globes, Rancic and Fey met on the red carpet of the Screen Actors' Guild awards, where the following tête-à-tête took place:

Giuliana Rancic: I am here with the gorgeous Tina Fey, who looks fabulous tonight.

Tina Fey: Thank you very much. Now I didn’t watch – did you take a steaming dump on me too last week? A little bit, right?

Rancic went on to make this face:

And Fey went on to be the just but benevolent leader of the free world.

The other reason the dress stuck in me noggin was that it was the first time I had seen a full-skirted, tea-length formal gown on a non-olden day-er. These days the style is fairly established, if still rather uncommon, but back then I was surprised and, I'll admit, not entirely impressed with the look (though if I ever meet Fey I will deny ever writing this and proceed to wash her feet with my hair). Tina just didn't have the 'tude, you know? If you're gonna wear that style, you'd better mean it because this length of skirt demands a high degree of hamming it up. Observe: 

Christian Dior, Bar Suit, 1947

Those ankles, them feet! 

Indeed Fey was not alone in her failure to give this skirt the scaffolding it requires. Ulyana Sergeenko - who should really know better, given that she seems to be championing all things new-New Look - seriously disappoints: 

ARE HER FEET ON BACKWARDS? MAYBE!

Victoria Beckham and Dita Von Teese are among the few contemporary clothes' horses capable of bring the requisite Work It (I need a glass of water) sensibility: 

Both have had extensive ballet training - a coincidence? I think not! Wing those feet Ladies!

Anyway, as noted, this isn't just a post about feet. It's about how the prevailing mode of dress can change the way we move and use our bodies. 

I remember when I first started watching the Next Top Model series, in around 2006,  there would always be a painful episode early on in the series in which the contestants were taught how to walk. Of course in Tyra's version there would always be some monstrous twist ("Your shoes are made from razorblades and the catwalk is covered with the handmade quilt your grandmother brought from the old country. Make it work", or some such) but even without that it was shocking to see how few of these women could just, well, walk. 

One of the more common problems, I noticed, was an inability to swing both arms while striding. In all seriousness I think this can largely be attributed to the mid-naughts-to-present trend for shoulder bags so large that the carrying arm hasn't room to swing. 

Similar but different, a pigeon toed stance seemed to match the 1960s-mod girlishness of late-naughts fashion. It looked weak and sucked.

More recently the fashionable pose du jour has undoubtedly been the single-leg bend. You know:

I feel like the main effect of this pose is to highlight sinewy, slender boniness. It's interesting that the unbent leg often seems straight to the point of hyper-extension. The pose manages to be both louche and a little strained all at once. I would cautiously suggest that the popularity of this particular stance seems to have coincided with the current fashion for extremely short skirts but I need to think over this one a little more.

With all this in mind we can view it as unsurprising that the tea-length dress has been a difficult garment to Work. It's new and requires a new way of holding the body. I want Tina Fey to try it again but next time she needs to bring a little more drama, a little more...

Dries Van Noten Spring 2013 RTW

While I always try to keep an eye out for the latest Dries Van Noten collection, I don't belong to that coterie of die-hards who seem to hang on his every stitch. Indeed I've only ever gone proper fangirl for the shoes:

Even the white sneakers... Especially the white sneakers.

That said, Van Noten's status as a cult designer, now more than ever, doesn't surprise me.

Nini Nguyen 

 Hanne Gaby by Elle

Elisa Nalin by StreetPeeper

His garments are incredibly photogenic and no doubt the streetstyle revolution has been very good to Van Noten, and vice versa. Indeed, since the time of his Spring 2008 RTW collection, the Belgian designer's women's wear hasn't ceased to be perfectly in tune with the way a lot of streetstyle icons dress, and not solely because a lot of them are actually wearing his designs. To my mind it is an aesthetic of streamlined eccentricity, with the layering of jarring prints and colours producing a surprisingly digestible prettiness.

And as for Van Noten's Spring 2013 Ready To Wear collection - well, it's really something else.

Obviously this isn't the first time plaid has had a brush with glamour. Duh:

 Elizabeth Hawes, 1940

 Jacques Fath, 1949-50

Vivienne Westwood, Anglomania Autumn/ Winter 1994

But it is the first time I've seen grunge plaid (and it is the styling and cut of the garments that suggest such an antecedent) re-imagined with such delicacy.

The most thoughtful grunge collection I've ever seen and it didn't come from Marc Jacobs. Ha!

Tim Blanks' style.com review is unsurprisingly excellent on the subject, but for one odd line -

"...though Van Noten nixed any literal inspirations, he did acknowledge that the shoes were a little bit Courtney Love."

Puhlease. Look at these sunnies and tell me if you think of anyone but Mr Love.

colour out

It's hard not to love a catwalk show that includes models doing the old ROYGBIV.

Burberry Prorsum Spring 2013 RTW

Miu Miu Fall 2012 RTW

Louis Vuitton Spring 2003 RTW

And if there isn't already a song/dance called the ROYGBIV, I want a writing credit when it happens.

A sloped, rounded shoulder

So here's a thing: Sometimes I loathe fashion. Like, I find it incredibly exhausting. But when I love it, I think I love it more than anything.

Whatever. Feel me now - there is a sloped shoulder about to happen (probably eased in via a raglan sleeve). I track it to Raf Simons' last Jil Sander collection.

Anyway. Here is a young Queen Victoria, painted by Franz Xavier Winterhalter:

I hate those shoulders. Aren't they weak? Don't they just scream cowed down-ness, timidity and, well, bad posture? They are not attractive.

Are they back? What is old is new, babe.

Here is Alexander Wang RTW Spring 2013:

Prediction: along with the sloped, rounded shoulders of the mid-19th century, prepare for a V-ish princess waistline (ew, urgh).

p.s. I LOVED the illusion lines of the dresses in Wang's collection:

As it turns out the trend can be bettered.

Is it sweet or bitter to be a queen?

The Vine have compiled a list of the best and worst celebrities dressed as Cleopatra, apparently apropos of nothing, save the enduring awesomeness of that Ancient Egyptian Pharaoh. Hey, I'm not complaining... well, one complaint: Where is Vivien Leigh as she appeared in Gabriel Pascal's 1945 peplum flick, Caesar and Cleopatra???

I had actually forgotten how stunning the costumes are - that blue headdress!

So here's a weird Vivien Leigh fact: It's well documented that Leigh suffered from mental illness and had a nervous breakdown while shooting the film Elephant Walk in Sri Lanka. But there is a lesser known aspect of the story - in fact, I only know about it because an acquaintance of my father's was in attendance at a dinner to which Leigh was also invited. At some point during the dinner a servant mentioned that in a nearby village an exorcism ritual was taking place. Going against the advice of her host and the servants, Leigh insisted on attending. Apparently she suffered from her breakdown not long after. Creepy, huh?

Cool Britannia... again

Apologies for the lack of posts lately but watching the Olympics must take precedence over all other activities. Speaking of which (though not really because I'm sure everyone's done talking about it), how about that Opening Ceremony?! Utter heaven and Jerusalem is currently on repeat on my iPod. Danny Boyle is a genius. I won't even give him a disapproving glare for dating Rosario Dawson. Go on Danny, you've earned your child bride.

And Britain! The following sums up my mood of late perfectly:

Indeed, if I must nitpick (and, of course, I must) I felt like the lack of hat-tipping to Madame Westwood was regrettable. Just think, instead of this yucko number -

- they might have had this:

Image courtesy of Suicide Blonde

Oh well, there's still the Closing Ceremony, I guess.

I will say that I was wee bit baffled by the NHS tribute as the very little I have read about the organisation in the past has not been positive. For a bit of context, back in the day I was properly obsessed with Michael Winterbottom's 2002 film 24 Hour Party People. It's the story of Manchester's music scene in the late-ish 20th century, centering on one of its key figures, Tony Wilson. In 2007 Wilson was refused funding by the NHS for treatment of his kidney cancer. According to this NME story, a bunch of rockstars stepped in to help out but sadly Wilson died in the same year. Interestingly enough, two bands Wilson had formerly managed - New Order and the Happy Mondays - were among those whose music featured during the Opening Ceremony.

Edit: It's all happening.
Cowabunga.